"...You Look Like A Little Girl"

Friday morning I'm getting into work and I'm riding up to my floor on the elevator. There's two other people in the elevator with me. A male, about 25-29 if I had to guess, tall, dark, and handsome as all get out. He was wearing fitted jeans, a pairof those sneakers that people get killed over, and a quarter sleeve jersey t-shirt. A little too casual for casual Friday's in my (office's) opinion but to each (office) their own. Next is a middle aged woman that I've ridden the elevator with many times. We usually talk about hair since she's going natural too and always compliments me on mine. This morning was no different. Except this time she followed up with

But you know that makes you look like a little girl, right?

After a millisecond of checking myself before I wrecked myself in a corporate setting I just giggled and played along like it didn't phase me. I can take a few blows. No problem. But I wasn't prepared for the 1.2. She continued after a moment of silence (I swear these are the largest floors ever. It seemed like the elevator was crawling.) she continued

I guess it's pretty hard for middle aged, white men to take you seriously when you look like a twelve year old, huh? But I like it.

I'm not sure what my face looked like at that time but by then she had hit her floor and was already out of the elevator by the time I picked my jaw up off the floor.

Now you're probably asking what my hair looked like. If you're expecting pig tails or any other style that is associated with little girls, try again. I was wearing a twist out. A defined, relatively chunky, twist out. See I had my hair in chunky medium sized twists (about 30 on my head) all week and decided to take them out and let me hair free... since it's Friday. Let me say this again. MY HAIR WAS IN TWISTS ALL WEEK. Now I know I look young when I have those twists in. Like, 12 year old young. I usually pin them back into some kind of updo to look less like a child but this week I was giving zero anything about pinning them back. I just needed something to wear that would allow me to work out at lunch without coming back to the office looking like Don King. Plus last week the humidity was relentless so a twist out would have lasted a good 30 seconds before it turned into a poofy 'fro. Not a bad look, just not what I want in the office.

I've never been looked at differently because of the way I dress or wear my hair. And that's because I don't wear big poofy glorious 'fros to work. I keep my hair contained which is what keeps corporate world happy. Frankly, it's easier to deal with in the twists anyway as I don't have to do anything when I wake up in the morning but shake, pin (if I feel like it), and go. Plus, I know how some folks, particularly of the older generation, get distracted at the tiniest things so I don't want my hair to be one of them.

Here's what I would have loved to say to that lady if I hadn't checked myself or had a jaw on the floor.

No ma'am. I'm not sure what you're referring to but I've never had someone not take me seriously because of the way my hair looks. In fact, I get complimented on my appearance regularly. And for those who believe that I look like a little kid, I let the quality of my work speak towards the ignorance and judgements that I may recieve. A quality of work that has always been praised and is easily on or above par in comparison to those who are not only double (and some) my age, but my experience, and pay grade.

*Drops the mic*

50 Random Facts About Me || Part 1

Helloooooooooo! (Think Mrs. Doubtfire)

So remember when I had this bright idea of doing a "Blog My Life" series? Well, that was supposed to get started over the summer when I thought I'd have more free time. Well, I thought wrong. Big time. But I'm still working on the series so stay tuned, if you still care. In the meantime, I want to give you all a snippet of my life by doing the 50 Random Facts about me tag that's been going around YouTube. And since we've been down that road of me not having a camera decent enough to vlog nor me not really wanting to be THAT exposed to the world (yet), I've decided to blog it instead...in two parts.
Hope you enjoy!

50 Random Facts About Me (Karla...With a K) Part 1

1. I enjoy making lists. I get a sense of accomplishment when I can make a list and cross off something.
2. The only thing I actually enjoy more than making lists, is budgeting. My best friend jokes that I get my rocks off from budgeting. He's a jerk.
3. Yes. I have a male as a bestfriend. We call each other overlords. It sounds a bit geeky now that I actually think about it but, whatever. We have each other's back no matter what.
4. SURPRISE! I have more than 1 bestfriend. Shocker, I know. At the moment I have 3 with a floater. Each of my best friends serve a purpose. Sadly enough, there isn't one best friend who I feel as though I can tell everything to. Maybe it's my way of staying in control. Yea... let's go with that.
5. I live with one of my other bestfriends. We're complete opposites in almost every way imaginable. I could from a home that should have been inside of a magazine (i.e. not a blanket out of place, nothing on the floors, no dishes in the sink when you go to bed at night) and she comes from...not that (i.e. borderline hoarder). So imagine that working out. Somehow it does, beautifully. I honestly couldn't imagine living with anyone else (besides a husband someday). She puts up with my OCD moments, my bitch moments, my moments when I come back from seeing my Mom and realize that our home looks nothing like my Mom's and therefore I go on a cleaning spree. She also puts up with me leaving an absurd amount of bobby pins laying around within arms reach. In the couch cushions, on the dining room table, in the bathroom, in her car, in the kitchen (pro tip: they are great for chip clips), in the washer, in the dryer, in the dogs mouth. Literally. EV.ER.Y.WHERE.
6. My best friend/roommate and I have shared custody of a dog (which she's already claimed when we part ways). She's a beagle and a basset hound mix and is absolutely adorable. The dog, not my best friend. She's adorable too but... she's not a dog.
7. But sometimes my dog isn't a dog, she's a cat. We have a bay window in our new place that is large enough for people to sit on. She likes to sit on it. ALL.DAY. And just stare out the window. Sometimes I forget she's there because she doesn't move for quite some time until she of course starts whining because she sees another dog outside.
8. I'm thinking about getting another dog to keep dog #1 company and to have a buddy.
9. If I were to get another dog, it would be a corgi. I love them. They're just like me, short with little legs. I'm a corgi in human form. Deal with it.
10. I believe in reincarnation. Deal with it. No I don't know what I was in my previous life but I think it has something to do with being outdoors. I just feel at peace when I'm in nature.
11. If I could be reincarnated into an animal, it would probably be a sloth.
12. I'm probably the shortest full-grown person you know. On a good day I'm 5'. Normally, I'm 4'11 3/4" .Call me fun sized if you will.
1. When people have the audacity to ask me how short I am my response is usually "Not." And I just keep it moving.
13. I used to be a girl scout and still can resist the girl scout promise and girl scout honor. Yea, I was that kind of kid.
14. When I was a girl scout I used to be the one that tried to get the most badges. A little competitive? Maybe. But there was one badge that I could never get...the swimming badge.
15. I don't know how to swim or tread water. Don't offer to teach me, it probably won't work.
1. I can swim enough to stay alive if needed and to get from point a to point b but it's not efficient in any way imaginable.
16. Samoa Girl Scout Cookies are not only a bit racist, but totally delicious. My mom and I hoard boxes at a time.
17. I'm a Daddy's girl to the core. I was brought up by my Dad as his "only son" since his dreams of having a boy to carry on his legacy was crushed when the doctor told him that I was lacking a certain phallus.
18. I've played softball for close to 18 years. I don't like to brag, but I'm pretty damn good. I've moved from fast pitch to slow pitch though because there aren't any fast pitch leagues around me. Le Sigh.
19. I'm currently on 2.5 teams (one as a "Hey we're missing a girl can you come play?" team) where I play short, 3rd, or 2nd.
20. I haven't missed a Women's College World Series (softball) in years. End of May/beginning of June? I'm parked in front of the TV.
21. I love my hair. It's natural and I'm a pro-natural hair advocate. But I won't force anyone to go natural. Actually, I'll only explain the benefits of not having chemicals in your hair if you start the conversation first. It's not my place to tell you what you should or should not do to your body. I'll just spread my knowledge whenever it's warranted and allowed.
1. I hate when people force their opinions/beliefs/way of life on me, so why would I do that to anyone else?
22. For that reason, I refuse to talk about religion/politics/heated cultural events with people. I believe in healthy arguments and discussion but most people take that to an insane level where they're no longer communicating. Just trying to get their point across.
23. I enjoy healthy arguments. My best friend in high school and I stopped talking because of an argument over who knows what where we disagreed on something that didn't turn into a healthy argument. Woops. Since then, we've both learned to respectfully disagree. She became a lawyer. I just like to argue for the sake of making the other person aware other thought processes.  
24. I'm an international business MBA candidate so I'm very aware of cultural/personal/regional/ generational differences in people. I try to keep an open mind on any and everything and not much bothers me when it comes to customs/gestures/ways of life - except those that spread and promote ignorance and hate and take away humans inalienable right.  
1. I'm pro-LGBT
2. I'm pro-gay rights/marriage
3. I'm pro-choice
4. I'm pro- tattoos in the workplace
5. I'm a registered democrat but I don't agree with everything they stand for
6. I believe in standing up for myself and others while questioning outdated rules and norms
7. I'm pro -everyone has their own opinion and is entitled to it but not everyone's opinion is for the betterment of society and that's where things get funky
25. I don't apologize for my opinion and I don't expect you to apologize for yours. I would just hope that you're sensitive to others opinions when expressing your own and respectful of everyone's right to have an opinion that is different than yours.

There you have it folks. Part 1 of a 2 (maybe more) part series. I tried not to get too deep into some heavy stuff. I'll save that for later.

Until Next Time...

Happy Father's Day!

Just popping in to wish all of you Dads out there (anyone can be a father...that's just determined by DNA and one lucky sperm that beat out the rest to survive, thrive, grow, and mutate into a baby 9 months later) a Happy Father's Day! I still think it should be called "Happy Dad's Day". There's no need to be so uptight with these titles, people. I don't know one child that calls their Dad "Father". Of course I don't really spend time talking to kids that much so I could be wrong. But on any note, to all that Dads that are apart of their children's lives in a positive way, Happy Dad's Day to you. And for the single mother's out there who are holding it down? Congratulations and thank you. While I cannot say that you can take the place of a Dad, you're doing the best that you can with the circumstances that were given. And for that, I applaud you to the moon and back.

Now that the serious stuff is out of the way, let's get to the giggles and chuckles and smirks that I always (try) to provide. By now you've heard about all of the things that I get from my mom. And no, this isn't some dumb Will.I.Am song where they just talk about women's bodies as if that's all they really are. I'm talking about the borderline OCD that I have. The need to keep everything in it's place. The need to be in control of every aspect of my life. The weird thing I have where I don't drink the last of my drinks. My obsession with anything DIY and HGTV related. The inner mamma bear in my is all because of her. So that leaves you asking, "Well, Karla with a K, what did you get from your Dad?" Good question my loves, good freaking question.

Here is a list of things I got from my Dad or as I like to call it my:

Thanks Dad For Making Me Awesome List:

1. My body. Not to sound all weird and for those of you who haven't seen me in real life I am all female, promise. But I get my tree trunk legs and my other assets (ahem) from my Dad's side of the family. 
2. My brain...well half of it. I've decided that I'm pretty much the best mixture of my parents that could ever happen (sorry Karol, but we all know I'm the favorite anyway). But in all seriousness, I get the nurturing mamma bear from my Mom. And from my Dad, I have the analytical side. See, Daddy Dearest majored in Engineering in College (don't ask me which one because I always get it wrong). And throughout my education, he would help with mold that tiny little 7 pound brain of mine into an analytical machine. So thanks Dad for making my over analyze every part of  my life. 'Preciate it, bro. 
3. My love of sports and being active. My Dad always wanted a boy. He never kept that hidden at all. So when I came around and I was missing a member of the male anatomy, he didn't give up on his dream. Instead, he decided that his little girl was going to play double duty and be his little boy too. So he taught me how to play softball at a young age. Like 5 years old young age, with the plans of enrolling my into t-ball. Too bad that I was a superstar on the field and got to skip t-ball because I could make the throw from 3rd base (ish) to first at the tender age of 6. Yea. I was that good in my floral spandex pants. Thanks to him. Oh and pitching? No problem. He'd drag me outside when I would have much rather been doing anything else and work on my pitching. And for all those other sports out there and being active all the time? Yea that was him. When I was growing up we had a workout room in our basement that was lined with his trophies. I mean LINED. He had bowling trophies, high jump trophies, long jump trophies, other track and field event trophies, football trophies, trophies for having some many trophies. Ridiculous. Yet inspiring.  
4. Being able to spit out of moving cars without getting it on you. That is probably one of the most practical skills ever. No one wants to spit on themselves. Need an explanation? See #3. 
5. My love of making things with my hands. Daddy does home improvement on the side. Daddy also has had power tools since I could remember. Karla played with Daddy's power tools when he was away. At like the age of 8 or so away. There's even a picture of my at the bottom of his ladder when I was so young I could barely crawl. But I crawled my happy ass and nappy headed (seriously, head full of hair going all over the place) self to the bottom of his ladder and was determined to just get up there somehow.  I can read a measuring tape better than anyone he knows and my meticulous mind (thanks to Mommy Dearest) means when I mud and tape it almost doesn't need to be sanded over. I know that wall studs at 16" apart and have finished a basement or two when I worked with him over one summer. 

I'm sure there are tons more and this post will be updated as I think of them but right now I have to head out because I'm going to see my Daddy at home. Peace out homies. 

Until Next Time...

Blog My Life

If you have been living under a rock or just aren't hip to this new found thing called You Tube there's a particular tag that has taken over and everyone and their momma seems to be doing it. It's titled "Draw My Life" in which the You Tuber does exactly that. They take a whiteboard and some dry erase markers and go to town. With some clever editing skills, at the end of the video you know their entire life story (well at least the parts they'd like to share with the audience) and you get to judge their drawing abilities. I'm not sure why I love it so much, but I do. However, I don't have a You Tube account (Fallacy. I do, but I haven't uploaded any videos yet) and since I don't have a fancy camera or sweet editing equipment I don't think I'll be able to do a draw my life any time soon.

But what I do have are words. Words that can dance, move, and boogie with the best of them. So I'll take you through a journey of my life through my media of choice...blogging. This will be a mini series on my blog and will be broken down into life parts (birth, childhood, middle school, high school, college, now) so that I won't a) have diarrhea of the mouth fingers and b) give you all something to look forward to. And who knows...I may inspire others to follow suit. If not, hopefully you'll be entertained.

Until Next Time...

Ms. Fix-It

Hi my name is Karla (with a K), and I'm a fixer.

Now that that is off my chest, I should probably explain myself. Fallacy. I won't explain myself but this lovely lady will. I found this post on one of my favorite natural hair blogs and I was intrigued by the title and hooked after the first paragraph. Just do yourself a favor and read the blog here. I'll wait. Promise.

Welcome back.
She had described me. And at the same time she pointed out my biggest flaw. I'm a fixer. A perpetual fixer. I tend to fix any and everything. Even things that don't necessarily need to be fixed. My best friend calls me Mamma Bear (before 9 pm - after that I turn into Call Me Maybe which is a whole 'nother story) because I tend to try to fix ev.er.y.thing. I'm guilty of trying to fix guys I've dated in the past. Even though they clearly weren't broken. A bunch of dumb asses? Yes. Just not the right fit for me. I've tried to fix friendships that didn't need to be saved. I tried to fix other people's relationships. I tried to fix my friends. I've tried to fix group projects. (Side note: Old hag chick in the group from my last post? Yea...still a little upset with her. But the class is over and the presentation went off without a hitch. More on that later because I caught the Professor yawning in the middle of a few presentations and... anyway more on that later.) I'm a fixer. And the sad truth is...I don't think I willingly let people into my life loving the way that they are now. Instead I let them in if I love the way that I think they could  be in the future.

Terrible. I know. But that's just how I am. And for once I can say for certain, this is something that needs to be fixed.

So I'm going to be a fixer, one last time. And fix myself.

Until Next Time...

My current life...via gifs.

Let me just take the time right now to apologize explain why my posts have been few and far between the last few weeks. It's the end of the semester. And I'm working on moving into a new place. And I started a new position. And did I mention that it's the end of the semester?

Yea.  This is what I feel like right now...



mixed with a little of this:



And this old chick in my group for our final project is driving me insane and I just want to do this:



Then tell her this:



And then go on a rampage like this:




I just have to keep reminding myself that it'll all be over soon. Very. Very. Soon.

Anyway. It's week 20 of 2013. Put money in the bank [shawty what you thank?].

Just Another Maniac Monday

"I wish it were Sunday...cuz that's my fun-day." NOT. You want to know what my Sunday Funday consisted of? Trying to find a comfortable position to rest in as I was extremely sore from playing four games of softball in less than 24 hours. But as soon as I found a position that didn't hurt, I had to get up because of:

• My bladder. It's the size of a pea (pun intended) so every 30-40 minutes ...well you get the point
• My Dog. She doesn't always have to go out but when she does it's right after you get comfortable
• Laundry was done. Gotta mumbo the laundry. And if you're asking what mumbo-ing the laundry is, it's a Frusciante-ism that apparently means to switch the loads. Courtesy of the crazy Frusciante family.

And in the mean time, I was doing homework. Sunday Funday my arse.

Anyway, it's week 18. So depending on what plan you're following put don't forget to put in:

1. $18
2. $36
3. Whatever amount you're on.
4. Nothing. I don't care really. You're money, not mine.

Take care on this dreary Monday. I have a feeling this is the type of day that the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day was written about.

Until Next Time...

The Struggles of Having Natural Hair

As described by Buzzfeed. Pretty damn accurate if I do say so myself. Since you know, I do have natural hair and all. Take a gander and if you ever found yourself committing one of the "Can I touch your hair?" crimes, please stop. Things can, and will, turn ugly if you don't. That's not a threat...just a promise.

http://www.buzzfeed.com/hnigatu/28-exasperating-afro-problems

On a related note, I probably had the best braid out of my life today. I recieved compliments a many and scared myself about 20 times today because my hair kept brushing my back and I thought someone was touching me. Or even worse, my hair was so big/long that when I used my peripheral vision, I thought something was a) crawling on my shirt (nope, just hair practicing it's hang time) or b) there was someone eerily close to me or c) someone was touching me. Side eyes to my hair being long and in the way were a plenty today while I was sitting at my cube, by myself. That is until I went to lunch and was complimented on my hair by a group of ladies. There was a lot of "I want my hair to look like hers." going on.

Trust.  I was blushing on the outside and doing the dougie, electric slide, wobble, and the hammer time all at once inside.

Life is [Naturally] Good.

Until Next Time....

P.S. This bomb ass braid out was later ruined by Shaun T and his cray cray cardio thing that some people refer to as Insanity. Month 2...what up!?

Bloggin' On a Budget || Where did the time go?

I hope you all made it through yesterday, April 1st, without any pregnancy scares, lottery winnings, beds flipped upside down, saran wrap over the toilet seat, and all that good stuff that accompanies the day of fools. If you didn't, I feel bad for you. In a "I'm sure that was hilarious to see" type of way. Empathy? Not my strong suit. 

But I come to check in with everyone and leap my way into their bank accounts, piggy banks, underneath their mattresses, in a shoe box buried in the back yard - all that - to remind you that it is officially the start of week 14! So you know what that means? 

You better had deposited at least $14 into your 52 week savings account.  Or if you're still doing double (high five!) that would be $28. Or if you decided to skip ahead to some of the higher payments because you're on baller status... just remember which week you're doing. You should already be able to see a significant influx in your bank account. 

Don't know what in the world I'm talking about? Well it's not too late to join the 52 Week Savings Challenge 

Until Next Time...

Love Thy Neighbor... No Matter Who They Love

Less Hate, More Love.

Less Discrimination, More Acceptance.

Less Divorce, More Marriages that Last.

Less Bans, More Happiness.

Who Needs a Giggle for the Night?

In case you need a giggle for the night, please click through the link for The 19 Most Useless Lyrics Pages on the Internet. My favorite? #12 of course. 

You're welcome :)

Until Next Time...

WTF Wednesday || Triple J

Hi loveies!

It's Wednesday and while people refer to it as hump day, I like to call it WTF Wednesday. Why? Well usually by this time there are some things in the news that have you smh-ing, lol-ing, omg-ing, or staring at the computer/laptop/mobile device looking like you're trying to solve for X in a differntial equation with imaginary numbers.

And this, my dear friends, is why I will do the treacherous job of digging through all of this pop culture hullabaloo and recap some of my favorites in a segment called WTF Wednesday. Now before you go flying off the handle, WTF can mean whatever you want it to. Granted most of you are familiar with what conventional young adult online lexicon has it stand for, I'm leaving it up to you good people to decide what you want WTF to stand for. And remember, it can change every Wednesday. Maybe it's We Thank Fruitloops. I mean, who wouldn't want to say thanks to those delicious loops of not real fruit? Or Where's The Fries? Seriously, I shouldn't have to explain that one to you. Who doesn't wonder where fries are every now and again?

But today, WTF will stand for *drum roll please* Wasting The Financials but it could easily be replaced with What in The entire F***.

If you haven't watched, listened to, or read the news in the past week you may be a little confused if I share the name Jesse Jackson Jr. with you.  First thoughts may be "He was in the Jackson 5 right? Right?" Or maybe you're thinking he's some famous entertainer. I mean Triple J does sound like a wrestling name or at least a professional dog stylist for the Westminster Dog Show. Shout out to Banana Joe!

But what if I told you that Mr. Jesse Jackson Jr. is non other than the son of Rev. Jesse Jackson!  (I know, I know. I outdid myself with all of my detective work.) Oh, and he may have also swindled close to $1 million from the American people while he was a member of Congress who was on "medical leave" for most of his last term for an unspecified illness which was most likely a shopping addiction.



 Image Credit: The Google

Yes, close to $1 million. Well $750,000 to be exact but who doesn't like to round up? So you may ask yourself "Self, what could one person buy with $750,000 before they got caught?" Well... besides your own small island that you transplant yourself and your closest friends to and start a mini corgi farm because they are just so darn adorable; let me tell you what he supposedly (and I use that term loosely) bought.

List of Ridiculous Stuff to Spend $750,000 of Someone Else's Money On (SEMOn for short)

List of Ridculous Stuff to Spend $750,000 of SEMOn

1. A $46,000 Fedora that once belonged to Micheal Jackson (of no relation). Funny thing is, this fedora does nothing but just sit on his head. No dishes. No moon walking. No reading you a bedtime story. No showing you how to properly fold a fitted sheet. Nothing. I say he got ripped off, but that's just my opinion.
2. $43,000 Rolex Watch because anything less can't be trusted with telling time accurately.
3. Stuffed Elk Heads. To match the stuffed Elk butts he previously had on his mantel. I'm kidding, I have no clue why anyone would want to buy those.
4. $5,000 Fur Capes and Parkas. I feel as though a fur cape isn't the best choice when flying around Chicago as a super-hero. Seems a bit less than aerodynamic to me. Unless it was a live fur coat made of live flying squirrels. Then I can see that being a good investment. But alas, I read that they were various mink capes. *sad face*
5. $14,000 on dry cleaning. How else are you going to clean a live fur cape made of flying squirrels?
6. $61,000 on Restaurants, Night-Clubs, and Lounges.  At least he goes for the high class strip joints. Or just made someones night at the strip clubs that are probably sticky inside.
7. $5,000 football signed by some U.S. Presidents. I'm almost positive it had Taft's signature on it. And McKinley's. And Washington's.
8. $10,105 on Bruce Lee memorabilia. Seems pretty legit.

Way to go Triple J. Way to go.


Until Next Time...

My Worst [Hair] Nightmare

Well, this is probably second to me walking into a public bathroom and find that every single service is covered with multiple strands of random hair. And when I go to leave the bathroom the door knob too is covered with stray hair. THAT would be my worst hair nightmare.

But I digress. This is pretty horrible as well. I'm not sure how she didn't start crying before she stopped filming. I'm also not sure how high the heat was on that and why she was saying to leave it on for 20 seconds? But what I am sure of is that this will brighten your day. Maybe not for anything besides that fact that it didn't happen to you.

Poor girl.

Until next time...

Better Than Betty || Hit 'Em With The Flex

I, Karla With a K, am what you may call a Flexitarian. While the word sounds like something I just made up off of the fly, sadly I must admit that I'm not that witty. I've been dabbling in the world of vegetarianism for about two years now. I went 6-8 months straight vegetarian. But...then I had a craving for ribs and fried chicken and that went out the window. Before that I did a semi-vegetarian state where I ate vegetarian during the week and had meat (if I chose) on the weekends.

That's where I am now. It works for me and I've already slimmed out and feel less bloated after two weeks of going back at it. That could also be contributed to me being sick and not really eating for a week, but I digress. So you're probably asking yourself "Man, I wonder what she eats if she's not eating meat and what not."

Well... a lot of things. As you may or may not know, I tend to go through food phases where I get hoooked on one thing and go all in until I can't stand the sight, taste, or smell of it for a while. Right now my current obsession is sprouts. The brussel variety. Yup. I, Karla With a K, have an obsession with brussel sprouts. In fact, my dinner last night consisted entirely of roasted brussel sprouts. As well as my dinner last Thursday, Wednesday, and Tuesday.

But when I'm not eating brussel sprouts I eat pretty much everything else. Just not meat. Here's a breakdown of what I normally eat during the week.

Breakfast:

• Yogurt and Granola (my previous obsession. I ended up taking a break for about a month from it because I was getting sick of it but now it's back in the roatation.)
• Eggs/ Omlet with spinach and mushrooms (no, I do not count eggs as a meat. I follow the ovo-lacto vegetarian "guidelines" hence the dairy and eggs. Don't hate.)
• Granola Bar

Lunch/ Dinner:

• Soup: Black Bean, Tomato, Country Vegetable, Miso, Cabbage. I don't discriminate with soups. I love them all.
• Salad with black beans, kidney beans, corn, onions, tomatos, raspberry vinegar and olive oil
• Pizza/Pasta
• Sushi (noms)
• Brussel Sprouts
• Chips and Salsa
• Or whatever is around the house

Nothing special honestly. And nothing super fantastic, besides the brussel sprouts. Honestly, please go get some brussel sprouts and try them. Simply toss in olive oil, bake in a toaster oven at 375 for about 10 minutes until the top layer gets crispy, sprinkle with salt and pepper or whatever seasoning you're in the mood for, and enjoy. Seriously, if you don't like them, you're weird.

Until next time...

The 40 Day Diet

[Disclaimer: Religion is one of those things that gets people's panties in a huge bunch. These words below, and this entire blog, are my thoughts. Hate them, love them, they are mine that I choose to share with you. I mean no harm and hope not to offend. But if I do, please respond with care.]

Today is Wednesday. Also known as Hump Day. It just so happens to be the Wednesday that falls after the gluttonous holiday of Fat Tuesday, so you know what that means? Today is Ash Wednesday. Also the beginning of what seems to be the infamous "40 Day Diet" aka Lent.

For those of you who know understand the correlation, let me explain. Lent lasts 40 days and 40 nights. While it's original purpose was for the parishioners to get closer to God through a "preparation of the believer". This period consisted of prayer, of course, repenting sins, selfless giving to others for a religious purpose or rite and self-denial aka fasting. Fast forward some years (many) and Lent has been generalized as a period of time when giving up fats and sweets is the norm. Hence what I like to call the 40 Day Diet.

[EDIT: It was brought to my attention by a reader that it seems as though I was thinking Ash Wednesday being preceded by Fat Tuesday was some sort of coincidence. Wrong. I'm completely aware of the connection between Fat Tuesday and Ash Wednesday. Simply put? Feast before fast. Carry on.]

How did everything change from worshipping and preparing for Easter to not eating fried foods?

Don't get me wrong. I myself have participated in many 40 Day Diets and remember giving up meat (last year), fried foods (the year before), and chocolate (a year in high school while I worked at a candy store). So I'm not knocking everyone who decided to give up facebook, coffee, sodas, fried foods or what have you. I'm just trying to figure out where things went awry. And why are we so focused on giving up things when Lent is supposed to involve many other aspects? I don't know, the whole giving to others thing strikes me as something that's worthy of participating in for 40 days and 40 nights. But that's just me. Maybe I'm the crazy one.

I remember a few years ago the thing I was "giving up" for Lent fell in line with this. I gave up my money. Now before you come after me with pitchforks or flip your desk over in confusion, let me explain myself. When people asked for donations, I gave them donations. Easy peasy lemon squeezy. In those 40 days I probably donated a total of $100 but I got so much more out of it. I helped people. Lots of people and organizations and foundations. I even gave $10 to a homeless man and his daughter who were begging for food. Were they really homeless? That's not for me to decide but for the one that they answer to at the end of the day. But before I start rambling, I'll wrap this bitty up.

If you're going to participate in Lent (and that's not for me to decide for you. I truly, could care less if you do or not), think about giving up something that will help someone else. Not as a way for you to fit into your bathing suit in a few months. Helping others is just as much as a way to better yourself as reducing your calories.

Oh. And it probably wouldn't hurt if you went and repented for those sins that you've done. You know... Mardi Gras, New Year's Eve, every Friday night? But again. I don't judge. It's not my place.

Until next time...

You Own a Busines...and?

Hi, my name is Karla (With a K) and I'm a business owner.

There. I said it. I own my own business. Started it when I was 22 and almost a year later, I haven't failed. So I'm going to call it a success.

Recently, I was contacted from a friend from high school. We'd briefly talked about my business last time I was home and she probably had seen me posting stuff on facebook about it. But she contact me because she wasn't aware that I OWNED a business. Like my own. Mine. Me. All me.

So yes. I'm going to proclaim my business owner status to the entire world. I and a 23 year old MBA student that owns her own business. What's my business? Love-Lea. You may have seen the link to my website at the top of this blog. No? Well go ahead and check it out. I'll wait.

Back? Good. Now let's get down to business (all puns intended). I sell lotions, body butters, lip balms, hair butters, detoxing clay hearts, bath salts (not the turn you into a zombie and eat other people's faces kind), and much more. I do most of my business through craft fairs so you can assume the business is pretty small. And you'd be right. And that's the way I like it right now. Juggling grad school, working nearly full time, softball, working out, and a business is pretty tiring. So for once, small is how I'd like it to be...for now.

Oh. And did I mention that I make everything? Yes. You read that right. I, Karla With a K, makes everything on that site. By hand. So don't get it twisted. This isn't a Mary Kay, Avon, Scentsy sort of thing. I make everything on my own. I am my own boss. And I love it.

But what I'd love even more is to share my lovely Love-Lea concoctions with you all.

So visit the website. Peruse to your hearts desire. Fill a shopping cart. Press OK. And give me your money let me make something special for you and yours.

www.shoplovelea.bigcartel.com 

If bird's the word, spread eagle.

Reasons, Seasons, Lifetime

Going home is always a mixed bag. The town I come from is comparable to a black hole (in my opinion). If you don't leave once you graduate high school, you tend to get stuck there. Which could be a good or a bad thing. For me, it would be considered a bad thing. I like being the girl from a small town than the girl stuck in a small town. 

Going back and reconnecting with friends from high school makes me realize how much I've changed and just how much we've grown apart. It hurts sometimes knowing that you don't quite fit in with the people that you shared your formative years with.  But once you get past the hurt, you realize that those people, and everyone else you come in contact with were put in your life for a reason. Or a season. Or a lifetime.

I've had plenty of people enter into my life as possible lifetimes only to go out after their season, or even sooner after their reason was fulfilled. In elementary school I had a best friend who I thought would be a bridesmaid at my wedding to the cute kid with a bowl haircut. Luckily, that cute kid with a bowl haircut never liked me back so that wedding I talked about is still on hold today. But the best friend? She found another best friend and life went on. What about that guy in high school who you were best friends with for about two years until he decided to drop out his senior year? Seriously, you two were inseparable. You bailed him out of trouble more times than you could count. He taught you not to judge a person before you got to know them. Reason. And that girl that has a key to your apartment and let's herself in at any time just because she doesn't want to stay at her place? Or that guy who is your emotional tampon and is actually okay with that title? Or your best friend, roommate, therapist, and "other mommy" to your pudgy drool filled blog of a dog? All lifetimes.

We all have people in our lives that are there for a specific reason, there for a season - say four years in college, or for the rest of your lives. The hardest part isn't determining who is apart of which group, it's letting people flow in and out of your life at their desired times. There is nothing worse than holding onto someone who you hoped was a lifetime and only find out that they were there for a simple reason.

Well I'm sure there are some thing some things that are worse. Probably child labor, child birth, and all things having to do with pushing a large object out of an orifice. But still, it's pretty bad.

Welcome... Please Come In!

As the name suggests. My name is Karla. And yes, that's Karla with a K. Not a C, but a K.

This blog will be a recollection of my life as I see fit. Sure, at times things may not make sense, the right answer will appear oh so wrong, and there will be a few mistakes, mishaps, misspellings and missteps along the way but this is the journey that I would like to share. With you.

I'll take you day by day, but more likely every few days by every few days, along with me in this voyage that I call my life. We don't have to hold hands...but I'm not against it (unless you didn't wash your hands - then I'm totally against it). At times I'll make you laugh. I'll try my best not to make you cry. And there will be instances where you can't stand it here. Probably about as many times that you find yourself enthralled by my snazzy story-telling skills. Don't worry, you're free to come and go as you please. I won't judge.

Just make sure you keep all hands, feet, opinions objects, and what have you inside the ride at all times. Hope you enjoy the ride!